The Monster Inside
by futuregallaghergirl
Summary: Hope is stronger than fear, but what do you do if fear is all you have? There is a monster inside all of us, and after his hijacking, Peeta's monster is set free. Peeta's journey, through being in the Capitol after the Quarter Quell, to when he finally comes home to District 12 (after the epilogue). T for violence (Capitol hijacking).
1. The Monster Inside

CHAPTER 1

**Disclaimer**- I don't own The Hunger Games in any way, sadly.

**Hi guys! This is my first fanfic- I hope you like it. I don't know what you're supposed to put at the beginning, like a disclaimer or something, so this is my attempt.**

**Peeta**

I hear a roar of a tidal wave, feel the burning fog, and feel a bright light

flash in my eyes as the lightning hits the tree- but as I open them, I

realize that it's not lightning at all, but a cold, sterile-seeming light that's

been turned on above the tiny, dank cell that I huddle in crouched in the

corner. And that the screaming is not Katniss, before she shoots her

arrow at the force field, but Johanna, who I've learned is in the cell next

to mine. I close my eyes shut again, even though dreamland is no better

than reality.

_But who am I kidding_, I think bitterly, sleeping, or even

going unconscious, won't help me escape them. The ones who

incessantly hurt me. In the beginning, they insisted I knew information,

that I must know something about what the rebels against the Capitol

are planning. Until they realized that there was another, much better

way to use me. To break Katniss. They knew that I loved Katniss, and

that she loved me. Anyone who saw her in the Quarter Quell would tell

you so, even President Snow was convinced finally.

I hear the clanking sound of cold boots, and I curl up in the corner of my

cell in fear, pressing as much of my body against the two walls. I am a

shadow of my former self, the hopeful boy, the one whose muscles

bulged with strength and power, the one whose easy smile and kind

heart charmed a nation in to loving him. But I feel, these days, that the

hopeful boy is lost in the broken young man he's become.

I pull my now-thin legs up to my body, hugging them in terror. I lean the

back of my head against the wall, then pull it forward when I realize that

I've put it against a splatter of blood- _my blood_- that has not yet dried. I

rub my blond hair- now so dirty with blood and other filth it is a reddish

brown- and brace myself as the door to my cell swings open.

"Look at him!" sneers one. There's three this time. I cover my head and

try to scoot backwards. "What a coward! He just stays in the corner,

whimpering like a baby!" He cackles. "Like a dog!" adds the other. "He

was never really brave and strong like everyone made him out to be,

he's just been relying on her."

_No, _I think. _Not Katniss. _Every time they use Katniss against me, I'll

instantly crumple. Even using my terrible self-esteem against me isn't as

bad as what they say about her. I press my hands against my ears,

willing them to just get on with what they're going to do.

Their taunts finally end, and they go over to the corner where I am

huddled, kicking me everywhere they see. I unfold my body as they kick

me, and they manage to kick me repeatedly in the stomach until I roll

over, wheezing for breath. They drag me up roughly, then move their

arms so I slam into the floor, my legs unable to hold up my own body

weight. My eyelids flutter.

_No, _my mind calls out to me, bringing me back to consciousness. _They'll _

_hurt you more when you're unconscious. Stay strong. For Katniss. _I lift my

head off the ground, and using my arms, push myself up until I'm on all

fours. "Now he even looks like a dog!" they say, and they drag me away

into another room.

As my muscles ache, my bones crack, and as my soul is bruised, I feel

something tiny and dark kindled inside of me. It's in the dark chasm of

fear that every day, threatens to eat me alive. It's anger. I am angry at

everyone who did this to me. _Don't be angry, _says the tiny fragment left

of me that is a hopeful boy. _Remember your smile, when you were with _

_her? Remember happiness? _But the tiny flicker that is anger thinks

differently. _Why does that matter now? You're not happy now. You don't _

_smile anymore. And Katniss is gone._ _You hate these people who hurt you! _

_You can feel anger at them! _

But I am utterly too exhausted to feel anger. I bring myself back to the

stark reality and hear the animal-like screams coming from my throat. I

feel my skin crying out in pain, blood blooming underneath it into

bruises, and feel my blood splatter against the gray walls surrounding

me. I pant, trying to hold on to the glimmer of life left inside me.

They drag me out of my cell again and into the hall. I fall unconscious to

the ground, my body twitching. The people who tortured me- no, the

_MONSTERS _that did, push me along the hallway's stone floor with their

feet, then kick me inside my miserable cell. I barely manage to crawl up

into my little corner and I moan, a moan heavy with misery with

everything that's happened to me.

_Be strong! Remember Katniss! She's probably watching you now, trying to _

_find a way to get you out! _Cries the hopeful boy inside me. But he is

drowned by the blood of misery pumping out of me. All I feel is fear, and

I think that the hopeful boy who once thrived, who was once my whole

being and who I was, is now truly gone, replaced by the broken young

man who threatened to, and now has finally overcome him. The only

thing hopeful and beautiful I have left to think about is Katniss, and as I

fade away to some other world, I think of how I wish I could be with her

again.


	2. The Monster Contained

The Monster Contained

My eyes open as I pull myself out of the soft, dark unconsciousness into the artificial bright white light of consciousness. I stare up at the ceiling, the lights there are blinding me. They must have just been turned on, and their light helped rouse me from my other world. But I am so exhausted in every way that I do not even notice anything around me, except for the lights. I could be dead for all I know. Maybe I am. That would probably be better for everyone. But I just have a feeling that I am still alive, but just barely.

So I squint and try to slip back into my shadowy, soft, gray dreamland of unconsciousness. But this is wrong, it is wrong. "I CAN'T GO ON LIKE THIS ANYMORE!" I scream, but there is no one there to hear. I am, for once, alone. I drift away into semi consciousness, until I am unaware of my surroundings.

But I am hurting, deep inside, in every way possible. I would be fine with going completely unconscious now. I would be relieved, happy, even, to die, to just rid myself of what I'm suffering so greatly. I would embrace my death, and float forever in the gray dreamland, for what I'm suffering, torture, solitude, knowing that if I just could I would be able to reach those I love the most in life, is worse than dying. I know that no one really needs me in life. I've always just been sort of... there. I would be happy to die now and end this all. If it weren't for Katniss.

Katniss. I've vowed to keep her alive, even at the cost of my own life, and now I am here. Most likely taking the place that she was meant to be in. But they are using me against her. Even if she may not need me, I need her. And she saved us. I know that. I cannot let my debts go unpaid. Then I drift off.

I lay splayed out on my stomach, and I feel something sticky underneath my body as I lie on the ground. The substance is warm, and smells sickly. I try to lift my head to see what it is, but when I try to, I instantly feel dizzy. Then I realize what the sticky substance is.

I'm laying in a puddle of my own blood, and my entire body is covered in it. I am no stranger to blood anymore, but this much is revolting. I am sure that it's a miracle I am still alive. It pumps out of a deep gash in my arm, and at the bottom of my leg, where my false leg used to be, there is a ragged hole in the skin that covered my nub. My bloody bone sticks out of it. I laugh in hysteria at what has happened to me. When I finally realize the grave danger of my situation, when I realize that I am bleeding, I am terrified. I am dying; I am dying; I am dying. I moan in the terrible pain and at the puddle of my blood. They beat me too hard this time, their knives cut too deep, their whips flew too hard. If I die, so will Katniss. They will use my death against her and it will break her will to go on. It can't happen.

I claw at my wounds, trying to stop the blood draining away, draining away my life. I must get to the wall of my cell. I must get to the door. I must because if I die, nothing will ever be right. My debts to the world will be forever unpaid. I will never see Katniss again, or our children. I reach for the door and lift up my body, slick with blood, using the doorknob. My hand slips and my face crashes into the floor, breaking my nose. Blood spurts from the broken veins. I'm drowning in my own blood, I'm covered in it. Blood is everywhere. I feel like there's too much blood to be in a human being. I slam the door with my fist one last time, and it makes a satisfying clanging sound that's sure to be heard. I pass out against the wall.

How are the torturers not here yet? Even if they didn't here me, they should have come to injure me further. Or maybe they have come and I haven't even noticed. When you have an amount of blood this big, it doesn't make much difference to add a little more.

I have been in this cell a very long time. So long that I barely even remember a time when I was not in this dank, gray, and extremely dirty cell. I know that I have been in here for far too long, that I'm longing to escape and finally be free. To walk with Katniss in the forest of our home, District 12. To watch a beautiful sunset, the golds and the yellows and the purples and the blue of the sky above, and the softest of orange. In here there are no forests, colored an earthy green. There are no sunsets, no sky. All there is is the endless gray of the hallways and the cells and the doors and the bars.

"He's not dead!" a voice exclaims. I feel the heat of lights on me. "Good," a different voice remarks. "He has to go speak with President Snow in a few hours. The President himself requested it, and he would be quite put out if his guest died before they could have their discussion." President Snow. The name makes my blood turn to ice. What little blood I have left, anyway. My eyes open. "Ah, and look, he's awake now." The cruel, unfeeling voice belongs to a man, with a shaved head and severe looking eyebrows.

He looks down on me with ultimate distaste, like he was looking at some particularly unsavory insect that he had just found inside a cupboard. The facial expression of disgust couple with a desire to kill me was most definitely there.

"He wants you to be clean," said the man on the other side of him. "So you don't dirty anything inside his quarters." He looks down upon me with a smug face. "So let's get to work."

They take me to a room with a drain in the floor. They spray off with cold water from a hose, not so much as cleaning me but mostly blasting the caked blood and grime off of my body and chilling me to the bone. Another set of men come in, and the others leave. They put bandages over the wounds that are still dripping blood, so the President's carpet won't be soiled. The roughly rub me with a piece of scratchy fabric, attempting to partially dry me. Finally, they peel the water-blasted and bloodstained clothes from my body, and give me an ill-fitting gray shirt and pants. Then they leave me alone in the room with the drain.

One hour of waiting in quiet suffering later, I'm looking straight into the eyes of my greatest enemy. I stand on my one working leg, my nub useless without my prosthetic. I lean on the chair set before him to keep my balance.

His tongue flicks over his bloated lips. "Sit," he commands, gesturing to the stuffed armchair in front of his giant and intimidating looking desk. It has been a long time since I ever felt anything as soft as an armchair, and I rub my callused hands on the soft velvet. But I stay standing, my own small act of rebellion against this terrible man.

"I'll stand," I say, my voice strong. His eyes flicker for a moment, there seems to be a of something like uncertainty in the depths of their watery blue. But it flashes away as quickly as it came. He leans forward in his chair.

"Peeta Mellark, I'll get right to the point. After your little girlfriend Katniss Everdeen pulled that little prank with the forcefield, the entire country has gone into chaos. District 13 decided that they would just swoop in after the arena's walls were gone, and rescue Katniss to lead the rebellion that's now raging. I hope you both know what trouble you've caused for me. My country is against me. I'm getting headaches every day now."

He stops, coughing overcoming him. But he stops soon enough, and looks straight up in to my eyes. He clears his throat and begins again.

"But why didn't they save you? They chose Katniss over you. They left you for us to come get you. I guess she's just more important."

He wears a triumphant smile on his face. Well, it's as expressive as his face will ever get.

"But by leaving us with you, they basically handed over the way to end this war gift-wrapped. If we hurt you, she'll crack. She'll demand that the war be ended in exchange for you."

"NO!" I scream. "SHE WON'T KNOW! I'LL STAY STRONG." I swiftly turn over the chair and place my hands on his desk, glaring into his eyes.

"Tut, tut." says Snow. "You really didn't think that was all we would do? You think that what we're doing to you now is the worst of it? Young man, we've barely begun. When we're done with you, you will have forgotten everything in your life. You will hate Katniss with every bone in your body. You'll hate her so much, in fact, that you'll want to kill her if you see her." He finishes with an air of finality.

My hands begin to shake."No, no, no, it can't happen, it can't be." My love for Katniss is the only thing I've ever been truly certain of. They can't make it go away now. I lose control.

"NOOOO! I WILL ALWAYS LOVE HER YOU CAN'T STOP ME!"

I pound on the desk, and drop to my knees, pounding the ground with my fists. I'm scared out of my mind, because I know that they can do it. I don't know how, but I think they can. "I'll never forget Katniss! You can't make me!" President Snow stands up.

"Now, now," he says in a voice that could be kind, but has a tone of iciness behind it. "There's nothing you can do. Just accept it. In fact, let's see if it works now."

I sink into the chair. I've officially given up. My head slumps forward and onto the desk. I pound my fist on it, my forehead feeling the vibration it sends through the wood. I clench my teeth in anger.

2 women walk in to the room, one of them holding a metal tray that has a sterile wipe and a large syringe. The syringe is filled with neon orange liquid. The other holds a metal case.

"Now, Mr. Mellark, I'm going to ask you to sit up," President Snow says evenly. But when I look up, I see that he's grinning with excitement, he can't wait to see how his new weapon works. The metal case opens, and inside are metal bindings. The women began to fasten my arms to the chair and my ankles to the chair legs. As they bind my head, I ask, with a tone of bitter hopelessness to my voice, "Why the bindings? It's not like I'm going to try to escape anyway." The woman nods to President Snow.

"Oh, we know that YOU wouldn't try to escape. Not now. But you see, when this substance enters your body, you will convulse. You'll experience terrible hallucinations. Because this-" He pauses as the woman lifts the needle to my neck. "Is tracker jacker venom. Say goodbye to all happy thoughts of your loved ones." She pushes the plunger.

I lean forward, trying to claw at this terrible man, but I can't fight my restraints.

"NO!" I screech, my body already shuddering as the venom takes effect. "YOU WILL NEVER TAKE ME AWAY FROM HER!" My cry turns into a guttural, animal sound as my body shakes with seizures as I enter the land of the hijacked and President Snow's cackles fade.


End file.
